.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

A Poem: Mr. Robot

c2011Shalako

This poem originally appeared in 'Twisted Tongue' #16.


I, robot

Don’t have the capacity

To dream about tomorrow

But I never spell a word wrong

Fueled up, brains all loaded

With everything that’s passed

And I have no place to go

I can never die

As long as the batteries last

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come

I have never speculated

As to where I came from

Did I spring from the dust?

Was I created?

I’ve never cared. I’ve never asked.

Simply because it’s easier

In the Good Lord I trust

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come

Cryogenic heart, skin a polished silver

One thing I am glad of

For this I thank my builder

I can never rust.

And in my own self-assumptions;

I place my deepest trust

I, robot; am happy within myself.

Here I come

Here I come

Here I come…


Twisted Tongue #16:

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/twisted-tongue-magazine-issue-16/11780060

http://badpoetsclub.blogspot.com/2011/01/mr-robot.html (Blog link for my original post.)

Thursday, April 21, 2011

The Portal


(NASA)


To hold the keys to the kingdom in our hand

Is to doubt one’s very senses,

But it’s real enough

The view through the door, or the portal

Call it what you will

It’s very beautiful, but are you sure you want to go out there?

Beauty often hides danger,

And this is a dangerous pursuit.

To stand here is to confront two choices

We can stick our tail back between our legs

Pack up our things and go home.

Or; we can go out there and see what is real.

And I have this funny feeling that once we do that—

To achieve the culmination of all of our hopes and our dreams,

To live up to our fullest potential, thieves and charlatans that we are—

Is to discover that there is no going back.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Arbres. Artiste Inconnu.





Détail. Aquarelle sur l'enveloppe # 10. Artiste inconnu. (Sérieusement). Collection de l'éditeur.

Detail. Watercolour on #10 envelope. Artist unknown. (Seriously.) Collection the publisher.

Tree.

Monday, April 4, 2011

New Poem: Saved by Death

c2011Shalako


I used to pray for Death

But then I feared to live

To live in fear is not to live at all

And I was living so very, very badly

To be confronted by Death is a very liberating experience

Maybe that is what saved me.

I was saved by Death.